Don't Look Back
by evidently-emily
Summary: The five times Chichiro hears Haku's words through out her life time and how they effect her. Angst galore.


A/N: This story came to me while I was trying to write a Chichiro & Haku Christmas story. Well, me, the angst queen, decided that I didn't really want to do some kind of fluffy thing. Writers and readers like us need some drama, so if you're looking for fluff, as of right now I do not think there will be any. Probably a sappy ending because I'm still in romantic mood, thanks Joe Black. There's not really lemons in here, but there's some mentions of some, and some discreet citrus. Bahaha, discreet citrus. Anyway, I hope everyone is having a happy and safe holiday, and if you enjoy this story, then please review. I should probably warn you of some of the things. There's a lot of adult themes in here, nothing too explicit, though. I'm reading it over, and I'm just saying, seven year olds should probably turn back. Although, I'm being a hypocrite. Whatever, anyway, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. xD

Disclaimer: I do not own Chichiro or Haku, they are characters that belong to Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. I do however own this story, and if you would like to put it on another site, you must ask my permission. Do not take this as your own. I don't take your soul from you, do I? Oh, I do? Sorry...

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"Don't look back."

He had spoken those words to her three years ago. Why she was thinking about them now, she didn't know. It seemed like Chichiro spent more time trying to forget rather than actually basking in the memories. She had done her best to move on with life. She had dubbed the experience as nothing more than a hallucination, but she had to admit, there were times when she wished that she had the strength to run all the way back to bath house and fall to her knees on the familiar bridge, begging to return.

Not that Yuki, her new boyfriend was bad. Oh no, not at all. His soft blonde locks, his crystal blue eyes that changed to brown in the dark. He had an impeccable fashion taste for a fifteen year old boy, he was smart, he was captain of the water polo team and he played soccer, football, and tennis. He came from a good family, he treated Chichiro nicely...but he wasn't Haku.

They were fooling around in the locker room after water polo, just like every Tuesday and Thursday night. He was fumbling around with her shirt buttons again, his lips pressed awkwardly against Chichiro's, almost as if he had been trying to prove a point rather than kiss his girlfriend.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

Chichiro blinks, not sure how to handle this change of plans. The fooling around never got to that level...but if he was ready, Chichiro wasn't going to hold back. He finally gets the unbuttoning down, and Chichiro helps him out by sliding her shirt over her head. Haku's words are still ringing in her mind, but she doesn't understand why. She is with her boyfriend, the boy she should love, and she's thinking about a silly crush from years past.

His hands aren't soft, they're rough, wanting, hungry, just like his eyes. They've transformed from crystal to hungry, lustful, and Chichiro is afraid to say no. He won't hurt her, but she feels that she needs this too. Maybe not for her own self pleasure, but to prove to herself that there is hope, there is hope for her to be able to move on with her life. Haku is a thing of the past, Yuki is now, and she can still make things right with Yuki.

A tear rolls down her cheek, hidden as much as her feelings as Yuki takes the reigns. Chichiro lays back, her back presses against the wooden bench. She had thought before that this would happen, but not with Yuki. She didn't think that it would be in a locker room, smelling like chlorine, wanting to be somewhere else.

But Chichiro didn't look back.

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She's happy. She really is happy. Haru is a good guy--he's successful in life and has a goal-oriented future planned. Her parents adore him, and they don't think that there is a guy out there that could measure up to him. Chichiro knows one, but she doesn't tell her parents that. They dated all through college, and now, at age 25, she knows that getting married is the next step in her life. A normal life. This is what she has wanted all along, and now she's going to get it. She's ready.

The dress is too tight, too long, too bothersome. She hasn't agonized over it, but her mother has made it to be that if the dress isn't perfect, the marriage will fail. Chichiro wants a small wedding, and Haru had agreed, until he decided to go out and invite everyone and book the fanciest things. Not for Chichiro. She knows Haru too well to know that he's doing all of this for her, he's doing it to measure up, to be perfect, just like everything else in his life.

"You look beautiful."

"Gorgeous."

"A beauty."

Chichiro doesn't have words to express how she really feels about their 'kind words, she she just nods her head, looking in the mirror. The awkward 12-year-old in love is gone, and instead stands the 'now' Chichiro. This is her. This is her life. She's moving on. An organ begins to play, which signals that it's time to head out. The bridesmaids squeal with delight, no one who Chichiro really knows. Mostly Haru's relatives, but Chichiro doesn't mind.

Now it's her time to walk down the aisle. She's not nervous, but she is thinking. Thinking things that no bride should ever think...she thinks that there still is time. There still is time to find Haku, to get out of here, to not bound herself to the hostile ties of marriage. But, it's her time to walk, and she is, she's walking towards marriage, towards Haru, towards her new life.

"Don't look back."

Chichiro don't look back.

----

"You BITCH! I want you out of my HOUSE!" A glass bottle is thrown against the wall, and Chichiro, age 30, ducks in just enough time so that the bottle isn't aimed directly at her forehead. Tears aren't streaming down her face, she's watching, stone cold. Emotions left her so long ago, too long ago for her to be able to really feel anymore. This happy marriage that had taken place five years ago had ended as soon as the honeymoon had.

Haru was a monster.

Chichiro feels a strong hand wrap around her arm, gripping tighter and tighter till she knows. She can't escape, she doesn't want to, she deserves these blows after all, doesn't she? This state of mind that he has gotten her into, she can't escape it. She doesn't deserve. She shouldn't want or need. He throws her into the wall, and she feels her face slam into the plaster.

She quietly escapes the room as he reaches for another bottle of expensive vodka, and enters the nursery of her baby, Sakura. The infant that is the only good thing that came out of their marriage. She gathers the diaper bag, bundling Sakura and slipping a coat on. She hears snoring, and knows he has passed out. She slips out the front door, knowing she's a runaway now. She's not welcome here.

Wind whistles, a comforting feeling, through her hair.

"Don't look back."

Chichiro begins to run, letting tears fall by themselves. She won't look back.

-----

They had said it was an unstable home when they pulled up to the shelter when Chichiro was 40 years old. Sakura was 10 years old, knowing nothing but the wreckless home that her mother had provided for her. But, the woman in the slick black pant suit had pulled up and taken the one precious thing in Chichiro's world from her, her daughter.

They had taken her, taken her world, taken her daughter.

She was homeless, and couldn't find the strength to pull her life out of the dumps. But, she had provided. She had gotten money somehow, providing for her daughter. Sakura didn't own roller skates or barbie dolls and she didn't have a steady home, but she had loved her mother, wasn't that a stable home? They had made Chichiro feel like a criminal, like an abuser. Like...her ex-husband.

Chichiro looks down at the pills that one of her 'friend's has given her.

"Take it, eat it, swallow it," he coaxes. "It'll make you feel better."

She's 40 years old, not 4. She knows better.

But that doesn't stop her from tilting her head back and swallowing the pill. This time she doesn't hear the words in her mind, but she speaks them to herself anyway.

"Don't look back."

-----

She's a wreck now. A total wreck. Age 50--not necessarily old, but done. She managed to work enough odds and ends to be able to purchase a train ticket back to her old home. Back to the bath house. She hasn't returned there since the day she left. She's feeling low, now. Lower than anyone should feel. She's been abused and battered and tattered, feeling like the fights she has fought were nothing more than a waste of time. That's really what it was, anyway. Just a worthless fight, her whole life.

The bath house hasn't changed much. Not that she's there yet, she's taking her time, knowing exactly what she's heading for. Her joints hurt, her body aches as she reminisces. Soon, she's standing at the edge of the bridge. She places a foot onto the bridge, looking at the sunset over the horizon. She steps farther into the bridge, letting her hands rest on the rails. She looks down, and doesn't see herself.

She sees her 12-year-old self, happy, laughing. Chichiro looks down at the knife in her hand, then lifts her arms and makes a thin slice on each wrist, closing her eyes and swinging over the railing, letting her body fall into the water. The endless oasis that would take her to serenity.

She emerges, and is instantly blinded by the sparkling lights and diamond-like setting that she finds herself in. She walks to the shore, looking down at her hands. She's 12 again.

She sees Haku, and doesn't run, but walks slowly. She's learned to doubt in her lifetime, and she hasn't figured out how to believe again, but she's going to. She's going to believe.

"Come with me, Chichiro," he explains, taking her hand and leading her to a sparkling place that looks more peaceful than anything Chichiro has ever seen. "And don't look back."

She nods, and follows, and doesn't look back.

The one time she doesn't regret it.


End file.
